Milk It
by unicorn guts
Summary: Watch 'The Frycook What Came from All That Space' before you read this; Zim has fun at work. Zimx?


Zim hates his job.

He can feel another pair of malicious red eyes much like his own stare at his back.

The small Irken attempts to tame that nervous feeling in his squeedly spooch by concentrating on the hot grease bubbling in the deep fryer, wouldn't want those vort dogs to burn again - Sizz-lor already scolded him for that earlier.

Gashlooog leans back against the counter on his elbows, whistling a tune that Zim is not familiar with, watching him intently. Zim's hand remains on the handle of the deep fryer, the food cooking inside still not done. He coughs into his other hand, feeling completely naked under his co-worker's scrutiny.

Zim huffs, releasing the handle carelessly, not at all considering the splatter - he moves back just before the heated grease gets on him.

"Isn't there something you should be doing?" Zim asks, choosing not to look at the other alien, irritation draped over to hide discomfort.

"Lunch break...I'm just bored." Gashlooog says as he ties his work apron a little tighter, words airy as he gives Zim the once-over, his eyes stopping to stare at the small Irken's rear-end.

"Then go somewhere else," Zim shoots back heatedly, hands clenched into fists and so obviously not in the mood for Gashlooog's antics. "There's nothing interesting here."

Zim can feel Gashlooog grin and shivers, the sizzling coming from the burner just makes Zim more anxious.

"Well, I think your _very_ interesting to watch." Gashlooog says, suggestion leaking from his words and Zim can feel his cheeks flush violet.

"I-uh-should go get the splong wings.." Zim chokes, turning around from the deep fryer to head towards the control panels. Gashlooog doesn't drop his stare, his abnormal tongue flickering between his teeth as he watched Zim reach for a food tray gingerly.

Gashlooog pushes himself off the counter, making his way towards Zim.

The room is _unbearably_ hot. Zim removes the uniform hat and presses a button on the control panel. Gashlooog, who is having a lot of fun toying with Zim at the moment, decides to kick it up a notch by pressing himself against Zim's back.

Zim's eyes widen, feeling their bodies pressed together making him _really_ uncomfortable. Zim coughs weakly, attempting to ignore Gashlooog's advances, his trembling hands holding the tray up to the food dispenser. The tube sucks the bag in and spits it back out full of splong wings.

Gashlooog nuzzles Zim's neck, his hands wandering down Zim's sides, fighting back a laugh as he heard the tray clatter against the counter.

"I-If Sizz-lor sees this..." Zim mutters breathlessly, hands gripping counter in front of him until the green of his knuckles turned white.

"He won't." The other Irken assures, his hands hiking up Zim's 'dress'.

Inching up higher and higher...

Zim gasps lightly as Gashlooog pulls on the waistband of his pants teasingly. Gashlooog turns Zim around to face him, shoving him against the counter again and Zim cringes because of the contact with his lower back. Gashlooog is pleased by Zim's reaction - Zim stares at Gashloog shyly, cheeks glowing purple above a vacant smile - Gashlooog pushes his waist in between Zim's open legs, leaning in to clamp down onto Zim's neck. He sucks at the skin while Zim makes a pleased grunt.

Zim murmurs happily, antennas wiggly excitedly as he thinks about the heat in between Gashlooog's legs. Gashlooog finally pulls away from Zim's neck, satisfied with the bruise left behind, reaching up to kiss Zim roughly.

Zim can feel something inside his chest swell, he grabs onto Gashlooog's shoulders and presses his tongue against Gashlooog's timidly.

Somewhere between Gashlooog's hands and the counter, Zim's antenna quirks, hearing the distinct sounds of heavy footsteps that would only belong to...

With wide eyes, Zim unceremoniously pushes Gashlooog away, which leaves the other feeling confused. He eyes Zim expectantly, did he do something wrong?

Zim notices this and shakes his head reassuringly, pointing to the door that lead to the kitchen before turning away from him. That's when Gashlooog hears -

"ZIM. What are you _doing_ back there? The vort dogs were supposed to be sent out an hour ago!"

Zim sighs, realizing the vort dogs were completely burnt, releasing an unpleasant smell. The door is kicked open, Sizz-lor stepping in.

A shadow crosses over Sizz-lor's features as his mouth clamps shut tightly.

Zim gulps and Gashlooog puts distance between them as if his hand was caught in the proverbial cookie jar.

"GASHLOOOG. Your break was done a looong time ago! GET BACK OUT THERE."

"Yessir." Gashlooog mumbles, giving Zim one last, fleeting look as he left the kitchen in a goose-step.

Zim pouts, the one time he was enjoying being at work and it was cut short, he can feel his boss's intense stare - Zim feels the top of his head and rubs his antennae awkwardly.

"Uh..."

"GET BACK TO WORK!"

The Irken quickly rushes back to take his place in front of the deepfryer.

Zim hates his job.


End file.
